


Roulette

by UsaginoAngel



Category: Soul Eater
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst and Humor, Backstory, Bullying, Character Death, Cutting, Depression, F/M, Father-Daughter Relationship, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gang Violence, Italian Character(s), Italian Mafia, Kami Albarn - Freeform, Kishins, Major Original Character(s), Minor Original Character(s), Mommy Issues, Mother-Son Relationship, Original Character(s), Original Character-centric, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Spirit Albarn - Freeform, Trust Issues, Tsunderes, War, Witches, World Domination, Yandere, broken home, dead mom
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-07
Updated: 2016-02-15
Packaged: 2018-05-18 19:44:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 9,216
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5940910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UsaginoAngel/pseuds/UsaginoAngel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Weapon and meister.<br/>Fire and ice.<br/>Brought together by Lord Death himself, over the course of four months, two individuals from either side of the divide form a bond thicker than blood.<br/>She the daughter of a death scythe, and he the son of a powerful kishin mob boss hell bent on conquering the world.<br/>While Aya, after years of isolation from her peers must integrate into life as a teenage girl--and learn what it means to be part of a team--Kenta must suppress his bloodthirsty urges and wear a mask of goodness and mental stability in order to succeed on his malicious plot and do right by his father.<br/>But when troubled and broken Kenta falls in love with Aya, the girl he had intended to make a own in his dangerous game, things start to fall apart at the seams, and Kenta must choose between his family and the exciting life he once knew, and forbidden love. Can they escape the darkness together, or will Kenta accidentally pull Aya into the depths?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue - Kenta

Hours ago, I was home in my lavish Italian villa. Now, I am in Death City, which is undeniably the worst possible place for a mafioso to be. But of course, like everything else I have done in my life, taking over the world has it's risks. All things in life do. Whenever you do something in life, there is always risk. Be it miniscule or deadly. This risk I am taking at this very moment happens to be just that. Deadly. But itâ€™s one I'm willing to make. Not just for myself, but my father's entire empire.

-  
The proposal went something like this; The Luciana crime family is at the top of the Underworld, Kenta and his father so close to the power and wealth we had so desired we could almost taste it... But one day, Lucky had decided that he wanted more than just an empire. He wanted the entire human population to be pressed underneath his finger. How was he to do this? By destroying those getting in their way from the inside out.  
"Father, are you sure you want to do this? Operating in the city has its downsides," Kenta had remarked, "Should I get discovered for who and what I really am, I may find myself outnumbered. In other words, father, the options of what I could possibly do are extremely limited."  
Lucky nodded. "There's no one to turn to if you're in over your head. You can't afford to make any mistakes. Your options may be limited Bart, but you know damn well you'll be able to use your big beautiful brain to get yourself out of it. I don't doubt your abilities, son. We wouldn't be in my office right now if that were up for debate."  
It would start with Kenta, then after everything had fallen into place, the entire family and it's allies would enter the city and strike.  
Kenta's father took a sip of his scotch. "So what do you say?"  
It was crazy. Absolutely totally completely utterly crazy. The risk was huge. As well as the chance he wouldn't be able to carry out more than half of the scheme on his own. Only a madman would agree to this plan.  
"Yes."  
And so he flew 6,127 miles across the ocean to what just might be the place he meets his imminent doom.  
But even as he observed the bustling crowd of weapons and meisters, people who would turn against him in an instant if they knew who and what he truly was, he felt no fear.  
In fact, he felt nothing at all.


	2. Prologue - Aya

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Aya arrives at Shibusen.

Everyone has their own idea of what it means to be lonely. Some will never know what it feels like to be stained by it's darkness, while others are fated to live a life so rich with it that it creates a thickness around the very core of who they truly are.  
It's hard to be your best self and realize your true potential when you've been plagued by fourteen years of loneliness and isolation.  
For me, that has been my entire lifetime.

As I stare up at the complex, looming structure of the DWMA, bustling with a flooded crowd of students, I feel my stomach do a somersault as The Graveness of my Situation finally sets in, and I realize the possibility of my impending doom.

I, Ayako "Home-schooled-since-age-five" Albarn, lifelong social pariah, am starting my very first day of school at Death Weapon Meister Academy.

Mindless losers say that your very first day of high school commences  
the true beginning of your life. It's been said the years you spend in  
senior high are the best of your life, and in those precious four  
years, memories will be made that you will treasure for a lifetime.  
Now I would totally call bullshit on this if my childhood had, been  
more fruitful.... And if I were actually going to attend a normal high  
school. I'm talking a school for particularly... uh... "GIFTED"  
children. And believe me, I don't mean eggheads with  
like, five freaking hundred point I.Qs. I mean weapons and meisters.  
So in case you're totally oblivious to the way the world works for  
some reason I can't explain other than A: You are a total 100% certified moron.  
B: You are a cave dweller, and have no concept of what a sun is, what  
it looks like, what it does, or know that it even exists, C: You were born with your head up your ass,  
or D: All of the above.  
Let me break it down for ya. Those who are weapons have the ability  
to transform from human to powerful weapons of war in an instant at  
their own will. Meisters are people with a special ability to wield  
these weapons.  
They may be hard to spot if you can't read wavelengths, but  
they're there. All around the world.  
There is one place, one school that hordes of these people can be  
Found in one area all at one time.  
Death weapon Meister Academy. More popularly known as the DWMA. A  
school created by our God, Shinigami-Sama to train weapons and  
meisters to fight against evil souls to maintain order and preserve  
world peace.  
All I've ever wanted was to go to this very school. To follow in my  
father's footsteps and become a death scythe. And now that it's  
finally happening, now that I have a chance to prove myself as a capable weapon, I'm practically about to shit myself... This is  
it. Today is the day my life finally begins.


	3. Chapter 3

He saw her just before the first period bell rang.   
It didn't matter that her wide blue eyes were narrowed and her mouth was twisted into a permanent scowl. She was blatantly beautiful.   
There weren't many people left in the hall at that point. But Kenta was taking his sweet time looking for his class. Aha cast him a quick glance as she strode through the vacancy corridor. It was the kind of glance where she saw him without actually seeing him. He wasn't really used to that. He felt a little humored by her. She was new and trying not to look it. She was scared and trying to look tough. It was adorable, for lack of a better adjective.   
"Hey," He said. "Do you need any help?"  
The girl swiveled around and looked at him like he had just made some kind of lewd remark.   
"Excuse me?" She wasn't afraid to give him a good once over.   
"You look lost is all." He explained.  
Ayako rolled her eyes and let out a huffed sigh. Now she was irritated. "This is not what lost looks like, this is what annoyed looks like. And I don't need any help, thanks."   
It was the spikiest, least gracious "thanks" Kenta had ever received from a girl.   
"My pleasure." He said as she flounced away, fighting the urge to grin, "What's your name?" Kenta asked, even though he had already knew.  
"Does it matter?" She called back, incredulous as to why he was prolonging the conversation.  
Kenya shoved his hands in his pockets and watched as she bolted down the hallway towards the Death Room.


	4. Chapter 4

By the time she reaches the Death Room, Aya had run herself through all of the possible worst case scenarios she could get swept up in that day. At best, she'll be ignored by her peers entirely. At worst, dead.  
She reaches out to push the door open, and it barely budges. She tries once more. No give. Finally, she rams her unfortunately small frame into the ginormous wooden double doors and flies straight into the death room, landing on her stomach.  
"Ayako! Hello hello!" Shinigami-Sama's voice is alarmingly high and jovial. For a moment Aya wonders how such a powerful and feared figure among kishin kind could be so... Inviting.  
She stares.  
"Well do come in now, don't be so shy! Death Scythe has told me so much about you! My how you've grown! How have you been?"  
Ayako had met Lord Death before as a little one, so she feels she shouldn't be surprised by his warmth. But that was years ago. The stuff of distant memories.  
How have I been? She thought, Iâ€™m pissing myself right now if thatâ€™s what you mean.  
She clears her throat.  
"I'm okay, Shinigami-Sama, thanks for asking." Aya said, offering a nervous grin as she gazed up at the guillotine blades that towered above her as she strolled into the Death Room. She could almost feel them raining down on her and splitting her in two. Her blood ran cold at the very thought.  
"Now I understand that you are nervous," Shinigami piped, as if reading her thoughts, "But there's no need to feel uneasy. We are well aware of the dangers and issues that have come with your abilities, so we felt it was necessary to implement your weapon training as soon as possible. Ayako, meet your new instructor, Mr. Zolov."  
Shinigami-Sama stepped aside to reveal a unconventionally beautiful black woman sporting a black and white pin-stripe suit. She had this air of wisdom and warmth to her. Something about her reminded Aya of the sun.   
"Well, this must be the infamous daughter of Death Scythe Albarn. How are you sweetheart? I look forward to working with you."  
Aya's face broke out into a huge grin. She would like Zolov, she could tell.  
"Likewise."


	5. Chapter 5

Death Scythe's daughter was in his class. She was a freshman, like himself. Perfect. If he got close enough to her he could use her as leverage over him and the school.  
Ayako has a beautiful soul wavelength. One that immediately draws Kenta to her. Like a moth to the flickering light of a flame. So full of purity and innocence. His mouth starts to salivate. The potential in the weapon stuns him. Her wavelength is impressively steady. Buried under her small, cutesy outward appearance, she has the potential to be the powerful Death Weapon that a meister could only dream of. He could tell by the way she carried herself that she didn't know it. There was an angry fire that burned within her heart, but what intrigued him most was that underneath the cruel, icy exterior of her soul lay a softer, gentler side of her. With this side of herself, she carries the confusion and fear of a small child.  
She may be playing tough on the outside now, but he could see she felt like a little fish in an ocean of sharks. Kenta feels smug knowing this, like he's just been told a secret that nobody else has heard. In just one moment, he had learned everything there was to know about who exactly this girl was. And Kenta was reveling in it. Carefully, he refocused his gaze from Aya's soul wavelength and took in her physical features. Huge grey eyes the color of angry storm clouds, and a waterfall of very long, straight sandy blonde hair gracing the middle of her back. She was staring out the window, watching a squirrel scurry across the branch of a tree. Without that nasty snarl on her face, Aya looked adorably sweet—Dare he say angelic. Kenta watched as she swiped her bangs from her eyes, captivated by her aura.  
"SAY THAT TO MY FACE ASSHOLE!"  
A voice boomed, shattering Kenta's thoughts. He looked in the direction of the commotion just in time to witness a boy headbutt another boy. In an instant, they were on one another like wolves.  
Boy Two throws Boy One (headbutt boy) the floor and starts swinging at him for a good minute, until boy one finally gains the upper hand and throws Boy Two off of him.  
Off of him, and straight into Aya.  
-  
"Oh shit."  
That was the thought in Aya's mind as 200 pounds of pure muscle barreled into her.  
All she saw was pink as she fell. The light blinding the students surrounding her as she transformed. Bits of metal shrieked as blades formed on her back and limbs. She heard a girl scream as she was pitched into the wall behind her. Leaving a hole nearly three feet wide. Three feet wide, and barely missing another girl. Had she stood any closer, she would have been cut in two. The girl stood with her mouth agape in utter shock.  
"Oh shit."  
There were those words again. "Oh... Shit." Aya had a sinking feeling she would be saying those words a lot today.  
Suddenly, everybody burst into motion. The gaggle of girls the latest victim of Ayaâ€™s dysfunctional powers had been conversing with prior were all buzzing around their newfound friend, and muscle boy was on a mad dash for the school nurse.  
Aya stood up, speechless.  
Of course, she knew the right thing to do was to apologize a lot, make a directly self-deprecating remark, and offer to take her to the on-campus infirmary. But for some unfathomable reason, Aya did none of those things. Instead, she just stood there, gaping like a complete moron.  
"Excuse me? But you nearly just killed me!" The girl exclaimed, cocking a hip.  
She was pretty. With sleek, wavy black hair, red cherry lips, and emerald eyes shaped like almonds.  
"Um...! I-I—"Aya began.  
"What the /hell/ is your problem? Are you an idiot? Aren't you at least going to apologize?!"  
Oh-kay... Suddenly the pretty girl didn't look so pretty anymore.  
"Hel-/lo/?" She demanded, "English! Do you speak english? Habla Español?"  
The girl's friends tittered loyally. Apparently she and her groupies found her childish remark humorous.  
Aya had been working up a sincere and heartfelt apology, she really had. But this girl no longer deserved it.  
â€œBitch.â€ She muttered.  
It was completely the wrong thing to say. The worst thing to say. But lately, it seemed Aya had a sort of talent for that.  
The ex-pretty girl stiffened.  
"What?" She shrilled. "Did you just say what I /think/ you just said? Just who exactly do you think you are?" The girl gave Aya a shove. What Aya wanted to do was spit in this girl's face and tell her to go fuck herself with a razor encrusted dildo, but unfortunately, she hadn't the chance before Kenta swooped in and got between the two girls.  
This, although she didn't know it now, was the first of many times Kenta would rescue Aya from tribulation.  
"Back off Misa," Kenta interjected.  
The girl—who Aya now knew to be called Misa—opened her mouth as if to protest, but Kenta threw a stern look in the her direction, and she quickly shut it and flounced away.  
Kenta turned on Aya, his lips turned up into a half-smile.   
"So, do you get in fights everywhere you go?" He asked her, already knowing the answer.  
Despite her sour mood, Aya couldn't help but grin at the inquiry.  
"What do you think?"  
Kenta's smile only widened at this, putting his razor sharp teeth on display.  
"I think you're nothing but trouble.â€  
"Well I guess you thought right."  
"My name is Kenta, by the by." He offered, extending a hand for her to shake.  
As if it were a foreign object, Aya stared blankly at the extremity before grabbing hold of it and pulling herself off the ground. I'm happy for you. She retorted.  
Then, the air fell silent between them. Kenta was looking at her. Not  
with judgement or expectance of any sort just looking. Looking for  
something. For what she didn't know, but in that moment Aya realized  
Kenta's eyes were blue. Some blue eyes looked pale and watery--more of  
an absence of color than a color itself. But Kenta's were rich with  
pigment. A deep, tumultuous, challenging blue.  
His eyes had taken hers, and she couldn't look away. And it all  
happened in that moment. When his gaze intertwined with hers and, like  
a mystic, she dove into his ocean hues and seemed to see his past and  
his future. His past was haunting, marked by bottomless wounds that  
only time could mend, and the future, even more terrifying.  
Because it included her.


	6. Chapter 6

As Kenta peered through the stormy eyes of Ayako Albarn, something stirred deep within him. In that moment the air was still, and he looked deep into the depths of her oculars and saw the hurricane that brewed in the heart of this cold, maladjusted girl that stood before him. Like amystic, he saw her past and her future. And he could tell by her startled expression that she had seen his. Like him, she had her share of scars. But though hers were the type that faded with time, they would never fully heal. He saw in her eyes a past wrought with isolation. With betrayal, mistrust. Fear and self hatred. But also in her eyes was a glimmer, of something he himself had lost long ago...  
It looked something like hope.


	7. Chapter 7

When I enter the training hall, I'm painfully aware of everyone staring at me. And I can tell judging by the looks on their faces that they're all terrified of me.   
The floor feels soft and springy underneath my feet, cushioning each step. Looking around, I see that all four of the walls are padded with mats, and an immense skylight rises above us, displaying a gorgeous blue late-summer sky streaked with whips of fluffy clouds to taunt me. There are many windows as well, one of which I know opens up to the front of the infamous main staircase if the academy.   
I know I should be nervous about walking into a room full of warriors, almost all of them trained better than me. But instead I'm left wondering if twelve years of mixed martial arts is enough to help me in this class. I mean, I know I'm a weapon... But it's always good to have at least some prior knowledge of combat. Right?   
All around me the others warm up, mostly stretching or jogging around the room, but a few are more impressive. A sophomore twirls a scythe in his hands, creating a miniature whirlwind with his weapon.   
A girl who I've come to know as Lila lazily trades blows with another peer. Lila is brutally strong and fast and should be able to best him, but the boy matches her blow-for-blow in a violent dance. Neither once of them seems to be able to gain the upper hand, playing a game that is more of balance than of strength.   
Just imagine what they can really do. So strong. So powerful. And these are only the kids.   
"Lines!" A voice says, barely above a whisper.  
As if right on cue, my new instructor enters without a sound. There are slight wrinkles in his pale skin, and his hair is as white as his lab coat. Sutures cover his body and clothing.   
Professor Franken Stein.   
Thankfully professor doesn't waste time introducing me as the child of Death Scythe Albarn. In fact, he barely seems to acknowledge the fact that the eldest daughter of his ex-partner has joined his session.   
"Laps," He says, his voice low and monotonous.   
Good. Something I know I can actually do. I'm thankful he hasn't asked any of us to transform into our weapon forms. Yet.   
We all set off in our lines, circling the room at an easy pace. I push myself faster, enjoying the exercise until I'm speeding right past Misa. Then it's just Kenta next to me, setting the pace for the rest of them. He quirks a slight smile at me, watching me run. This is something I can do. Something I even enjoy. Although my feet feel extremely strange on the cushioned floor, the blood pounding in my ears, the sweat, the pace are all familiar. I close my eyes and I pretend I'm running by myself. Just free.   
That is, until a hurdle swings out, catching me in the stomach.   
I hear giggles from Misa and her groupies as it knocks me to the floor, sending me sprawling. But it's my pride that really hurts. Blades burst from my body from the shock, and the pack of runners pulls away, and Misa smirks over her shoulder, watching me fall behind.   
All around the room, obstacles fly out from all directions. And although some freshman struggle, the second-years take it in stride. They're used to this.  
Kenta stops, and when he extends a hand to me, I don't take it. Instead, I pull myself off the ground and push myself into an easy jog. Kenta runs beside me, never more than a step away, and it's completely infuriating. I feel my face burn bright read with anger. My pace quickens until I'm sprinting, dodging and hurdling to the best of my ability.   
By the time we finish laps,Kenta is the only one who hasn't broken a sweat. My breath comes in heavy pants. Even though I feel near exhausted, I'm proud of myself. Despite a rough start, I managed to keep up.   
Professor Stein continues to run the class ragged, forcing us through round after round of exercises designed to fine-tune our endurance and combat abilities. Of course, I fall behind in some of them. But I can also feel myself improving.  
By the time the session has ended, I'm drenched in sweat, sore all over, and in desperate need of a warm bubble bath. I catch Kenta whisper something to me on the way out.   
"Good job."   
-   
Zolov's lesson is a blessing. Allowing me to recover my strength. She's been quietly observing me all day. A character in the background. She never says anything or interferes with my daily interactions, but I can never quite forget that she's there.   
I lounge in an overstuffed leather chair, watching as she scribbles the last of her notes for the day in a little black book. As much as I hate being studied like bacteria in a lab, Zolov is an understanding and sweet kind of woman. The kind of person you can't really get mad at.   
"I think I know what your problem is," She says at the end of my second week. I'm standing a few feet away on the balcony arms outstretched, like the usual fool. I'm taking in the cool summer breeze, admiring the view as I try to will my weapon powers to allow me to transform. Zolov wants me to harness it, to use it, but once again, I've failed to be able to use the abilities that forced me to come to this school, to have to prove myself as a powerful and capable weapon in the first place.   
"Maybe I have to be in mortal danger," I huff, blowing my long, unkempt bangs out of my eyes, "Should we ask my dad to attack me?"  
Usually Zolov laughs at my jokes, but right now she's much too busy thinking.   
We stand like that for a moment, in silence before she finally speaks.  
"You're like a child." She says.   
I wrinkle my nose at the insult, but she continues anyway. "Your weapon powers behave in the way they do in children at first, when they can't control themselves. Their abilities are present in times of stress or fear or anger, until they learn to harness those emotions and use them to their advantage. There's a trigger. And you need to find yours."  
I ponder this for a moment.   
"It's worth a try, at least." Zolov prods.   
With a groan, I try again.   
'Let go,' I think. 'Let yourself go.'  
I keep my eyes closed as I focus, letting all my thoughts slip away so that my mind can reach out, searching for the strength within my soul wavelength to give me the extra oomph. The surge of power, alive beneath my skin, moves over me until it sings in every muscle and nerve. That's usually where it stops, just on the edge, but not this time. Instead of holding on, I let go. And I fall into what I can't explain. Into a feeling that is everything and nothing. Light and dark. Hot and cold. Alive and dead. Soon the power is the only thing in my head, blocking out all my ghosts and memories.   
My eyes open to see that farm iliac, blinding pink light, only it's stronger, and burns brighter than ever before.   
Then I am alone in the dark.  
I hear myself clatter to the ground, and for once, I have nothing to say. And neither does Zolov.   
I've done it. I've finally done it. I, Ayako Albarn, have fully transformed into a weapon. 


	8. Chapter 8

Kenta wasn't wandering around the school because he wanted to see that girl. He didn't want to see her. He knew for a fact that she would cause him nothing but trouble. And considering both of their backgrounds, they should be sworn enemies. She was Death Scythe's daughter. That was the important part. She was Death Scythe's daughter, and and essential part of the plan, and he was here on a mission to conquer the world, and despite all this for some incomprehensible reason he was thinking of her anyway even though he knew damn well he shouldn't.  
Lately, within the past few days, it seemed no matter what he was doing, his thoughts always slipped back to Aya. /Aya/...  
He uttered it aloud. The name sounded so mesmerizing. So enchanting.  
Kenta had certainly never thought so much about a girl he had only known for a little over a month.  
His mind wandered back to her whenever he mistakenly gave it a moment's freedom.  
He kept picturing her eyes, dark, stormy and infinite as the sky during a rainy day.  
He wondered where she was right now. Would she sit and eat lunch with him? If she did, would she talk to him, or give him the cold shoulder like she usually did?  
His heart rate quickened at the mere prospect of having a conversation with her.  
What had she done to him?  
His brain used to be so complacent and obedient. And now he was a big pile of love sick mush.  
Kenta was so distracted that she nearly walked straight into a pillar.  
He looked up, and he saw her. She was sitting on a bench in the courtyard, alone, eating a sandwich. The harsh, defiant expression that was frequently plastered onto her pretty face had dissolved now, and he once again captured her in that rare sort of moment when all her self-consciousness, all her barriers had fallen away. Now, her face looked open and sweet.  
Aya had shed her woolen cardigan to reveal lithe sculpted shoulders. Her muscles were defined, but long and graceful. He also noted that her eyes looked less murky grey in this light and more of a extremely watery blue.  
He had been considering going over and sitting with her for a short while before her head snapped towards him. Kenta lifted his hand to wave, but Aya's eyes flickered away before he could make any sort of motion with it. A gaggle of cute girls—whom within the past few days Kenta had found to be annoyingly flirtatious—invited him to eat lunch with them off campus, but he politely declined. Instead he walked straight into the courtyard, not even giving them the courtesy of a simple goodbye.  
He didn't look back.


	9. Chapter 9

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kenta invites Ayako to a party.

"Hey there, stranger."  
Aya turned toward Kenta's voice, her sculpted brows connecting over angry eyes.   
"What the hell dude? Were you spying on me or something?"  
"No," He replied simply, "I was just taking a walk and stopped to say hello to a friend. Kenta took a sweeping glance around the garden as he ran a hand through his midnight-colored hair. "A paranoid friend at that."  
Aya's fierce eyes relented a little bit.   
"O-Oh... I see."   
Technically, he /had/ been spying. But it wasn't as though Aya needed to know that.   
Suddenly, he recalled the brooding expression that had been cast upon Aya's face.   
"What were you thinking about?" He wondered aloud. Immediately, Kenta wished he could suck the words back in like some sort of magical 'oh-shit-I-didn't-mean-to-actually-say-that' vacuum.   
Aya punched Kenta in the arm, though, he noticed the impact wasn't as harsh as usual.   
"So you were spying on me, you creepo."  
He shrugged and hooked his thumbs in the pockets of his trousers.  
'What is he, a freakin' cowboy?' She thought.  
"Maybe a bit."   
Aya said nothing as she stood up and slung her weather-beaten pink leather messenger bag over her shoulder. As she started for the door, Kenta called out to her.  
"Wait."   
She slowed, but didn't stop.   
"Before you go, there is something that I wanted to ask you... Will you go to a party with me tonight?"  
Anya stopped dead in her tracks and turned on him.   
"Oh my god. Are you kidding me? Is this some sort of after school special? Golden boy befriends angry outcast girl? Of course not. I don't do parties. Besides, I wasn't invited. It isn't exactly like anyone wants me there."  
Kenta was a bit taken aback by this... In the best kind of way.   
He wasn't used to girls saying no to him.  
"Well, I'm inviting you now because I want you there."  
Aya stared at him in quiet contemplation. She pondered his proposition for a moment as she listened to the pear blossom trees whisper sweet, enchanting melodies in her ear as they bent in the early autumn breeze.   
You should go, they sang to her. Go, go.   
"I don't know. It sounds kinda stupid." And it did. Aya knew for sure that she'd probably get ditched by Kenta and his model-like friends, with their perfect hair and clothes that screamed 'Put me in Men's Vogue NOW!" Aya's wasn't sure Men's Vogue was actually a real thing, but if it was, Kenta especially belonged in it. What with his all black suit and shiny dress shoes.   
"Come on, it's a school party. Lexi Paine is throwing it. You know, Misa's friend."  
Aya wrinkled her nose in utter disgust.   
"Queen Bitch Misa?" She fake gagged. "Boy, Kent, you sure do make this party sound tempting." She was walking again, faster this time. Kenta followed her.   
"You know, It might be fun. Besides, it's your chance to meet some people. You do need a partner after all." As much as he hated the prospect of pulling the partner card, suggesting her partner could be anybody else but him, he was sure it would hook her in. After all, he knew for a fact that she was the most driven to become a death scythe out of the whole freshman class. She had to at least desire a Meister. Right?  
"Thanks but no thanks. I work solo."  
The words pierced him like a knife. 'I work solo.' He acted as though it didn't bother him.  
"Why not? It isn't as though you have anything better to do."  
"I do, actually." She shot back.   
Kenta smirked. "Like what?"  
She just stood there for a minute, searching for an answer. She /was/ working on a mission. But it wasn't like she was going to find her target anytime tonight...   
"Okay, okay! Fine! Maybe I don't have anything better to do." Aya admitted, glaring at Kenta icily, "Rub it in."

Kenta adored the way she glared at him when she was proven wrong. The way she puffed out her cheeks when she was mad. He loved the way she cocked her left hip out whenever she stood.   
He tried not to be obvious as he admired her murky grey eyes and how her dark sandy hair fell perfectly, no matter how much the wind whipped at it. And the best part, she was oblivious to all of it. Her adorable mannerisms, her pretty features.   
Kenta had heard of this mythical species; Girls who were completely unaware of the fact that they were beautiful. He had seen them in movies and anime. He had read about them in books. Portrayed unconvincingly almost to a fault. But he had never seen, never spoken to one in person until he had met Aya.   
He offered her his most charming smile. Aya could see that it was genuine.   
"Then it's settled," He declared. And just like that, Aya took off like a bullet towards the school.  
"Pick me up at six thirty!" She called back to him, throwing him a grin over her shoulder. "And for the record, I am /not/ paranoid."


	10. Chapter 10

As a child, I was a complete and utter disaster. I know that it might be hard to believe, but I was an even bigger hot mess than I am now.  
I was shy and pitifully awkward. And you could easily mistake my face for a piping hot pepperoni pizza, if you squinted.  
It started early. Even as a baby, I was horribly maladjusted. Now, you may be thinking that all babies are at least a little bit cute, but trust me, I wasn't. I was the toddler equivalent of a killing machine. If you ever saw a man wearing a full suit of iron armor while carrying a little girl on his shoulders, that man was probably my father.  
Take a wild guess as to who the kid was.  
Ding ding ding! If you answered "Aya", then you were right on the fucking button.  
My weapon powers awakened as a baby, triggered by intense emotions. This lasted my entire childhood up to now, resulting in me becoming badly ostracized from my peers. Kids refused to play with me, and the ones that didn't either bullied the hell out of me, or were forbidden by their parents to do so. So, that meant I spent all my time reading poetry and playing video games.  
And like all social outcasts, I even looked completely awkward. I had greasy, boyishly short hair, terrible glasses, and an aircraft carrier's worth of metal in my mouth.  
Like I said, hot ass mess.

When I was eleven, my mother began to worry about me in earnest. At this point I was homeschooled because the board of directors decided I was too much of a danger to be in a regular school setting, so without the social aspect being an issue that we needed to concern ourselves with, I suspected it was because she was too embarrassed to take me anyplace. She bought me a truck bed full of acne cream, and the vengeful orthodontist who had installed my braces finally freed my teeth from their wiry prison. My mother brought me to a stylist and hair-care professional to fix the Exon Valdez that sat atop my head that cost about five hundred dollars, and by the time my mother had finished with me, I was unrecognizable. I actually considered just changing my name and starting from scratch. 

I guess you could say I'm fine now. I know how to dress and wash my hair. And even so, there are still cavernous depths of dorkdom in me. They remind me hto at if I were born in a different age, say, prehistory, I would have been the dorkiest, most freakish caveman that ever lived. And even though I look the part of a normal teenage girl, I'm astoundingly socially inept. Which is why the very idea of me going to a party is completely ludicrous.  
So what the hell am I doing?


	11. Chapter 11

As much as Aya despised the fact she had been lassoed into going to some stupid party full of people that she was sure to hate, a big part of her was happy that she was going someplace on a Friday night with something to do.  
She was going because she wasn't afraid of Misa and she didn't have anywhere else to be. But mostly, she was going simply because Kenta had invited her. (Not that she would admit this to anyone.)  
He was the first person to cut through her defenses long enough to ask her to a freaking party. And he was also the first person that she hadn't succeeded in scaring off, despite her usual efforts.  
The party was on 25 West Crescent street. West meant west of Skeleton Avenue, but not by much, so she hung a right at Crecent.  
She glanced down at her pink baby doll collared dress and hoped nobody would be able to tell that she had spent almost two whole hours getting dressed.  
She had put on lip gloss, then washed it off. She'd tried on five different similar looking outfits before closing her eyes, choosing one from the lot at random, and throwing it on.  
As the address grew near, she spied one of the things she most disliked about these stupid exclusive little high school parties: A doorman.  
How much did these guys get paid to stand around like drooling morons guarding a fucking door? Where were the /door-women/ anyway? Door-woman. It sounded like some post-modern urban superhero who spent her days holding doors open for people.  
Of course, the doorman wanted to know her name to see if she was on the magical list of people allowed into the party.  
"Kenta," She told him, "Here for Lexi's party."  
The door fellow gave Aya a good once-over. "You don't look like a Kenta." Sir Door-Guard replied dumbly.  
"Tell my parents that. It's a real burden."  
He shook his head, as though he was wishing he never had to speak to another pint-sized, attitude wielding fifteen year old again as long as he lived.  
The young lad consulted the guest list, then stepped aside to let her in, waving a hand towards the door.  
"Go ahead."  
"Why aren't there any doorwomen?" She shouted after him as the apartment door closed.  



	12. Chapter 12

The party in 12C could be heard throughout the entire floor, from what Aya could tell. She could feel her muscles tense at the shrieks of laughter and loud buzz of conversation spilling into the hallway. This was kind of a momentous event in Aya's life. Her first party. Her stomach flip flopped from nerves as she tucked a loose curl behind her ear.  
What was she expecting exactly? Some deeply narcissistic part of her imagined that even though she was fifteen years old, she had never in her entire lifetime been to a real party before, and they would all fall silent and stare at her.  
But in reality, the only thing that happened when she had come in was there was one more beating heart in a room of around fifty.  
Yes. Okay. Okiedoke. Here she was. Suddenly she was sure she had been born with an extra gene for social awkwardness. Time to find the real Kenta—who's knock on her front door she had ignored in her haze of nerves—and hope he still liked her and wouldn't tell her to fuck off.  
Aya squeezed past a knot of people in the foyer who didn't give a shit about her. In the living room she recognized someone from her soul studies class, and couple of people who's lockers where near hers.  
It seemed that every flat surface was covered in cans of soda and beer. On a table in the corner were some veggies and dip and some unappealing chips and salsa. The meager makeshift snack table was quickly being dominated by cans and cans and more aluminum cans of beer. Was anybody's parents here? She wondered. She'd heard that a lot of people came to Death City without their family knowing.  
When she finally caught sight of Kenta's well-dry cleaned suit in the kitchen, she stifled the strong urge to run over to him and give him a great big hug. Not only was he the first person to invite her to a party, but she was also the only person that she could actually consider her first real friend. For days he had been nothing but kind to her. And for that she couldn't thank him enough.  
She walked towards him as slowly as she could manage, trying her hardest to look as cool and not-freaked out as possible, as though she would be running into hoarders of friends on the way over to him.  
Aya was painfully shy. She had forgotten that about herself. But she really was. She was more comfortable beating the crap out of somebody than chatting about the weather. When she was seven and her dad was teaching her about combat, he could have at least taught her how to strike up a meaningful conversation with someone. She could be sullen and aloof and obnoxious and irritable all day long, but she couldn't think of a single way to start a friendly conversation.  
"Uh... Hi, Kenta." She said lamely.  
Kenta turned around coolly.  
"Wow... Hey, Aya. I can't believe you actually came." He smiled a big smile she knew was intended to look friendly, but, as usual was like staring into the jaws of a shark.  
She liked that about him. He was intimidating and calculating without effort.  
"I never miss a party." She said wryly.  
"You look great."  
"Bullshit!"  
Kenta shook his head solemnly.  
"Sure. Hey, this is Sierra." He gestured to an Asian girl with long hair the color of cotton candy that he had been talking to. "She's in Advanced Placement chemistry lab with me. She's a senior."  
Sierra waved and smiled. She was drinking a beer.  
"You're new right?"  
"Yeah." Aya answered.  
"Where are you from?" Sierra wanted to know.  
Aya cleared her throat. "I.. I've lived in Death City my entire life." She smiled nervously. "Born and raised I guess."  
"Really? Dude, that's so cool! My aunt used to live here for a while."  
"Oh, really?"  
Suddenly, there was an eruption of noise from the direction of the front door. All eyes turned.  
"Aya, look. It's your best friend."  
Aya shot him a mean look. It was Misa Azem and friends—the same group from school, plus a few Hollywood extras. Misa really was gorgeous when she wasn't snarling. Judging from the energy she and her posse brought into the apartment with them, the party had only really gotten started in that moment.  
"I guess once again we're all lucky to be graced by the presence of Princess Prissy Pants." Aya mumbled, instantaneously cursing herself for being snide.  
Sierra glanced at Aya appreciatively, and her eyes sparkled.  
"Yes! I mean, who better but Misa to make us all feel worthless, fat and friendless?"  
Aya laughed and felt a surge of... Something. Was it Optimism? Hope? Social acceptances? She couldn't be exactly sure. It was just so unfamiliar. But there she was, maladjusted freak-thing Ayako Albarn, gabbing with people who could very easily be her friends. It was completely alien, but not in a bad way. Only now she had to think of something else cool to say.  
Misa lead the wave of party energy through the living room toward the dining room, and straight into the kitchen, where the beers and sodas were waiting.  
For a moment, Ata wondered warily if she would recognize her.  
And as it turned out, she did.  
"Oh my god!" She shrieked, "Look what the cat dragged in. Klutz Girl!" The insult sounded like something straight out of pre-school. Aya rolled her eyes.  
"What the hell are you doing here?"  
Suddenly, all eyes were on Aya. Her social success was evaporating quickly.  
"I would watch out for this girl. Don't get to close or she might try to cut you in half."  
This earned Misa an "ooh" from onlookers, and her friends all tittered loyally.  
"Who let /you/ in here?"  
"I invited her." Kenta piped, slinging an arm over Aya's shoulder.  
Aya shifted uncomfortably under his appendage. Frankly, she wasn't used to this sort of physical contact.  
"Excuse me /Kenta/," Misa said nastily, "but I didn't realize that this was your party."  
"And I didn't realize that it was yours." Aya retorted.  
The crowd's 'ooh's had risen into a crescendo now, and the applause that erupted froze Misa.  
"SAVAGE!" Someone hollered.  
Aya pumped her fist in the air. "Hoo-Rah!"  
Misa let out a cry that Aya could only describe as animal. Part huffy scream part grunt. She put a hand on her hip and popped it out before turning to Lexi, the hostess.  
"Lex, did you know this demented little bitch was coming?"  
Poor Lexi, looking frightened, nodded her head.  
"Don't worry Lexi, I'm leaving."  
"Oh, you're not leaving." Misa said, "I'm throwing you out. No freaks are allowed at this party."  
Before Aya could stop herself, it was too late. A big, gloriously disgusting glob of spit had already landed in Misa's eye. Right on target.  
Misa came out swinging, with much more accuracy than Aya would have anticipated from her. She landed a few blows, but it was mostly just clawing and hair pulling. She had nothing on Aya. Almost instantaneously, Kenta jumped in to shield her from Misa's fury, earning a few scratches from her razor sharp acrylic nails. Quickly, he called upon Misa's friends to restrain her.  
"Did you see that? That fucking bitch just spat at me!" She screamed, "Let me GO!"  
Aya headed for the door in quick, gaping strides. This was Misa's time. Let her have it, Aya thought to herself as she opened the door and passed through it. Ten years from now, Misa's awfulness will have caught up with her, and she'll be a disgruntled shriveled up old wench pining for the glory days. Aya had no time for petty, sad little girls like her. Let her have high school. Aya was holding out for something much better. Something beyond the pathetic little life she had once lead, and was leading now. She was going to be something. That was the promise Aya had made to herself. She was going to be something otherworldly so that people like Misa could be proven wrong about her. She was going to show the world she was unstoppable. And she wasn't going to let anyone get in her way.  
She stood sullenly at the elevator bank and punched the down arrow. Mercifully, the elevator opened right away. She was completely silent as Kenta slunk in and joined her. He looked into her eyes and smiled at her.  
At least she was back in her comfort zone.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kenta and Aya have a heere to heart.

Aya tilts her head back and looks upward. The stars glitter above her, spanning the infinite night sky.  
He was troubled by the events a few weeks prior. The way he was so subtly kind to her when everyone was around, and outright chivalrous when it was just the two of them. Aya had always thought that Kenta had just wanted something from her—that was the vibe he had given off at first.  
But the way he had defended her at the party earlier... She still couldn't believe he had taken a beating for her. It meant a lot to her, though. Probably a whole lot more than it meant to him.   
She was still confused about her exact feelings for him. A part of her was desperate, longing for his companionship. But another, much larger piece of her heart was too fearful of being hurt that she just couldn't help but keep her distance. No matter how she looked at it, she knew in her soul that he was someone she could truly call her friend.   
Aya loved watching the stars. There was more to them, to the galaxy than she would ever know. But that was what she loved about them so much. They were a mysterious, beautiful part of something much greater than herself.   
Nobody ever complained or had anything bad to say about the stars. Stars were romantic and beautiful. Everyone admired them.  
Kenta nodded as she explained this to him, staring into her deep gunmetal hues.  
"That's why above all else, I wish I could become one."   
Kenta gazed up at the glittering night sky, admiring the constellations.  
"Kent?"  
He turned towards her.  
"If you could be anything, what would you be?"  
He stared at her for a moment. But Aya could tell it wasn't because he was thinking.  
"Well?"  
"Do you want my honest to god answer, Aya?" He asked her, his ocean blue eyes solemn.  
Aya nodded.  
"Absolutely." She said solemnly.  
"Nothing at all."


	14. Chapter 14

It was Christmas Eve, and Kenta awoke to the sound of screaming and wildly beeping machines. His instinct told him to first feel confused... Then complete and utter terror, as nurses burst into his mother's room and began attempting to resuscitate her. Kenta had climbed into bed with her the night before, and he fell asleep listening to his mother sing sweet melodies into his ear. He heard the screams of a little boy who had lost everything. His innocence, his childhood, and now his mother. The most precious person in the world to him. His cries tore through his heart and made Kenta sick to his stomach. The horrific memory of waking up next to his dead mother, ingrained into his mind forever. It haunted his nightmares. It crept into his dreams.  
-  
Kenta awoke in a pool of ice cold sweat, recalling the aftermath of his mothers death. Nothing was ever the same. Kenta was left an empty shell of himself. His father turned to cocaine and booze. Some nights he would have sudden outburst of of drunken rage and begin beating his sisters, and Kenta would have to fight him off to protect them. It was times like those he was glad his father had trained him to be a cold blooded killing machine.  
Those girls became everything to him. After his mother passed he had turned into Mister Mom, since you could hardly say his father gave a shit about his kids.  
Kenta took on all the responsibilities of nanny and housewife. He refused to let the live in sitter anywhere near his siblings.  
He channeled all his energy, his emotions into those kids, and his hits. He carried out the murders night after night, growing into a stronger and stronger Kishin egg with each human soul he consumed.

Kenta entered the crime family life when he was still very young. And by the time he had turned 14, he was an expert marksman and trained combatant. He enjoyed the thrill of the kill. The sense of control, the surge of power that he felt as he watched the life drain from the eyes of his victim. The beautiful deep crimson pooling out of the body and onto the street. His favorite part was when they would plead, beg for their insignificant little lives before he put a bullet between their eyes or a knife to their throat. And he felt that sweet release he always got from a kill. That feeling that, if he could control the fate of a person, he could certainly try to control his own. This fucked up life he lead. He could change it. This madness that ruled his mind. He could manage it. This unquenchable bloodlust could be suppressed. And he would do it. He had to do it.   
For Aya.


	15. Do or Die

What good was being a highly trained killing machine when you couldn't beat the crap out of a loathsome creature like Misa Azem? Aya wondered bitterly as she wandered the deserted streets of Death City.  
What a catty little bitch Misa was. No... No, that was much too kind.   
Cats were fuzzy, warm-blooded, lovable and (somewhat) loyal. Misa Azem was more reptile than mammal—cold-blooded and remote with dead, hooded eyes.   
Signs for trendy stores and cafés were ablaze along the dim, narrow cobblestone streets.   
It was way past Aya's curfew. After they had escaped the suffocating party, Aya and Kenta chattered away for hours about all sorts of deep, mushy-gushy shit that Aya would definitely not dare to share with anybody but him.   
After all, Kenta was her friend.  
Her only friend.  
Aya shoved her hands deep in the pockets of her jacket and blew her bangs from her line of vision.   
Never mind that now. It was midnight. The witching hour. And there would be Kishin eggs lurking in the shadows. She needed to remain alert.   
She was a little nuts. She knew it. Sulking around Death Square Park for an hour and twenty three minutes, just looking for trouble.   
She would take on any baddy, absolutely any criminal. From a petty shoplifter to a full on ax murderer. She wasn't choosy.   
Aya loved the deserted, canyon-like feel of the streets of Death City in the dead of night, and the sound of her steps on the hard cobblestone walkways.   
She looked around for probably the seventeen-hundredth time tonight.   
Still, nothing.   
What does a girl gotta do to get brutally attacked in this city?   
Suddenly, as if an answer to a prayer, Aya heard a deep, rumbling growl come from behind her.   
The energy was building up in her nerves.   
'Come on already.' She urged silently.   
Her mind was beautifully, blissfully blank. Her concentration? Perfect. Her ears were pricked to decipher the subtlest of motion.   
Yet she could sense the clumsy attacker thundering from the brush if she had been both deaf and blind.   
Oh, /yes/. Finally.   
She turned toward the noise, feigning fear. But truthfully, inside, her heart was leaping with anticipation.   
He brandished a enormous, glistening sword. Stained with what looked to be blood.   
Her concentration was so keen, she had to remind herself to continue breathing. She couldn't let her pride get the best of her. She had to play this just right.   
Aya transformed, and he was right on her, his sword swinging and thrusting, attempting to pierce her skin. She did the same, slashing and dodging his blows in a violent dance of life and death.   
Then, she felt a sharp stinging. Aya screamed helplessly in pain as her enemy plunged his weapon into her shoulder.   
Just as she balanced her weight to deliver a strike, she heard a thunderous shout and an intense commotion come from behind her.   
Suddenly, notice was coming from every direction. Her adrenaline was rising fast, but her focus was thrown. She spun around, her eyes instantly accosted by strange images.   
A jet black suit. A flash of piercing blue eyes.   
"Get away from her!" A familiar voice roared.   
Aya swiveled her head in confusion.  
Kenta.   
"Run." He told her.   
She watched in wide-eyed amazement as Kenta rolled into the fray. Her very own knight in shining armor had come to save the day. Again.   
And as much as she liked the guy, the way he was always saving her really pissed her off.   
"You've gotta be kidding." Aya muttered under her breath.   
But no, there he was. Mr. Valiant.   
The adrenaline was surging through her veins, and the primary person she wanted to pummel at the moment went by the name of Kenta.   
The creature was charging again,   
"Aya, transform. Quickly."   
Aya pressed her lips together.   
Okay. Fine. She saw how this was going to have to go.   
She knew what she had to do.   
It was do or die.


End file.
